


Falling

by SLWalker



Series: Game of Thrones: Alderaan [2]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types
Genre: Fluff, Gen, Ice Skating, Pining, Pre-Series, Unrequited Crush
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-06
Updated: 2018-01-06
Packaged: 2019-03-01 05:56:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,291
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13288416
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SLWalker/pseuds/SLWalker
Summary: The first time he had felt it, months ago, he had been so surprised that he had ended up turning to the HoloNet of all things, thinking he had contracted some manner of illness.The consensus of various information sectors was that he had not fallen ill, just fallen in love.An eighteen-year-old paroled convict isn't anywhere in the same league as a nobleman, but that doesn't stop Maul from pining for Bail anyway, much to his own occasional chagrin.





	Falling

**Author's Note:**

> About a year and a couple months after the end of Stonebrook, and not quite two years before Opening Move.

For someone who lamented about his lack of agility, Bail seemed perfectly at home on a pair of ice skates.

“I haven’t skated since I was– kriff, I don’t know. Nineteen? Twenty?” he had said, the warm tan of his skin gone red at the high points from the cold air as he laced up his skates, sitting on the stone bench next to the pond. “You can’t be any worse than I am.”

Maul’s experiences in his former life with ice and snow were largely unpleasant, and so when Bail had asked if he wanted to try skating, he shook his head. But he wanted to be near Bail, so he _did_ bundle up in a sweater and a parka and mittens to go out and watch. The Estate’s pond was big enough for such ventures and according to Bail, it was definitely frozen thick enough right now; nonetheless, Maul went anyway, on the off chance Bail fell through the ice.

At least, that was the excuse he would give if asked. And it was truth enough.

The rest was more complicated.

“Are you _sure?_ ” Bail asked, grinning and drawing the question out as he stood, balancing a little wobbly on the skates as he got used to them. “I’d be glad to teach you.”

Maul had run up the sides of _mountains,_ on sheer ice, on much smaller feet than those he stood on now, on the raspy orders of a man who dressed in black and didn’t care if he fell. Balancing on a pair of ice skates seemed like it would be easier than that, yet still he balked. “I don’t think so. And I don’t own any skates.”

“I can remedy that very quickly.” Bail got himself out onto the ice and it was clear that his body remembered what to do no matter how many years it had been; he skated a lap around the pond, turning halfway to skate backwards, only to come around again and stop himself right back where he started, pinning his eyebrows up hopefully. “I can’t promise you won’t fall down learning, but I can promise to pick you back up if you do.”

Such a straight-forward statement shouldn’t provoke _heat_ ; nonetheless, Maul felt it anyway, on his face and neck, at the same time as his hearts jumped to a faster rhythm and some odd mix of anticipation and anxiety twisted under his lungs. The first time he had felt it, months ago, he had been so surprised that he had ended up turning to the HoloNet of all things, thinking he had contracted some manner of illness.

The consensus of various information sectors was that he had not fallen ill, just fallen in love.

That was so outwith Maul’s understanding that he tried to deny it internally for awhile, testing himself against it as if it was an experiment or a challenge, waiting for it to subside.

It didn’t subside. It only got worse.

Duly unnerved by the mere concept, let alone the reality, he tried to squash the feelings every time they came up and failed completely. Now, he had mostly given up on fighting it and had resigned himself to the likely reality that he was going to spend the rest of his life _pining_ for the man, because he couldn’t fathom Bail feeling that same way towards him.

That wasn’t to say Maul thought Bail didn’t care for him. Case in point, the very concerned look he was getting right now. The heat on his face got worse and he managed, “Just lost in thought, not–” _–about to hit something._

“Okay,” Bail answered, expression going softer. His usually neatly styled hair had gotten ruffled and the bit of it hanging down against his brow made Maul’s fingers itch.

It wasn’t right that the man could just walk around being himself and do nothing at all special, and _be_ so perfect. Maul flexed his shoulders and tried in vain to ignore the restlessness in his very skeleton and then relented with a painfully transparent shaky huff out. “All right. I still don’t have skates, though.”

It was hard being on the other end of a gaze like that, soft and warm and kind and still a little worried, but not half so hard as being on the other side of that smile as Bail pulled his comm out of his pocket to call the family’s tailor, who would in turn source some skates.

Even the fact that Bail knew his shoe size was almost more than Maul could take; he gave a fumbling, awkward excuse about going to wait inside and said he would bring back something warm to drink and beat a quick retreat.

 

 

 

The first time Maul felt this, this being in love feeling, it was when he had off-handedly mentioned that the head of House Panteer looked a little like his hunting dogs had used his face as a chew toy and Bail had stared at him wide-eyed, then started laughing until he was red.

Maul had already discovered a well-timed observation could do that and had been hoping for that result, but what he had not expected was the sudden feeling of _brightness_ , like panic and hope tangled in knots, watching Bail laugh practically to tears.

Nothing was the same after that, even if nothing big seemed to change at all. The world continued on just like it had before.

It was Maul that was different.

The occasional, casual shoulder-touch felt electric. The _proximity_. Bail was so free with his affection inside of his family (and Maul still boggled that he was considered even a peripheral part of that), it was nothing for him to reach out and touch, or to stand close. Even as Maul was kicking back against this _love_ business, he became so very aware of Bail’s scent, or the sensation of him close by; Bail, true north, and Maul, always pointing that direction no matter how hard he tried not to.

He might have succeeded, if Bail was less– less _worthy_ of such affection. But Bail wasn’t less worthy. He was warm-hearted and kind all the way to his soul; honest and genuine and complicated and generous.

And there were so many worse fates than loving someone like that.

Of course, that didn’t give Maul any composure when he was sitting with his heel between Bail’s knees, thermos of tea forgotten beside him, as Bail taught him how to lace the skates so that he wouldn’t strain or pull anything. When Bail took hold of the back of his calf to adjust his foot a little, Maul shivered.

“Cold?” Bail asked, looking up; all Alderaanian, he looked as beautiful surrounded in white and blue as he did in the summer sun, made of both and for both.

Maul shook his head, unable to force any words out, and redoubled his effort to pay attention to the actual skate-tying and not how elegant Bail’s fingers looked doing said tying. Thankfully, he remembered enough to do the second skate himself, only needing corrected once.

Bail flashed a grin and stood up, offering his hands and making Maul’s life a thousand times more difficult. “We’ll go slow.”

 _I’m going to die,_ Maul thought, face and neck _on fire_. “All right,” was all he could say, though, pulling his mittens back on and giving his hands to Bail, letting the man pull him up to his feet and steady him when he was there.

He fell just once, focus lost to those miserable lessons on Mygeeto, but when he turned in later that night, it wasn’t the bruises he felt or those old memories, only Bail’s arms around him, holding him steady.


End file.
